Where There is a Flame
by trublonde18
Summary: He was playing with fire. He knew it. He liked it. And he wanted, no he needed and longed to feel the burn. A short snippet set somewhere in the happy days between Season 2 and Season 3. #OLITZ


Where There Is a Flame

A/N: Short snippet somewhere in the happy days between season 2 and season 3. #OLITZ

He found himself standing in the familiar hallway outside of her front door. Same time, same night, every week; like clockwork. Guarded by his most trusted agents he knocked and waited to be greeted by her beautiful face. He could envision her pacing back and forth in front of the large windows of her apartment, wearing her favorite silk pajamas with a glass of her beloved red wine in hand while she waited for him to arrive. He let out a shallow breath as he ran his hands across his furrowed brows. It had been another long day at the office, the Oval Office that is. Or as he preferred to call it serving out his term in the crown jewel of the American prison system. The pressure of being the leader of the free world could be overwhelming and at times he felt like he was backed into a corner. He was looking forward to the escape and profound peace that being with her would bring tonight. He couldn't wait to loosen his striped, blue tie, kick off his shoes, and drape his suit jacket over the back of her couch. He technically shouldn't be there; at her apartment. The risk of being noticed by an inquiring mind would surely ignite the rumors again but he couldn't care less. To hell with optics. Let them talk; it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. But not being with her, not being with her would be the death of him. So he would walk the line and take his chances. He was playing with fire. He knew it. He liked it. And he wanted, no he needed and longed to feel the burn. He found immense pleasure from dancing recklessly without abandon around the flames. The notion that it was political suicide and socially unacceptable to be with her only fueled his desire more. Their _forbidden _love was thrilling and all consuming. He had tried once; to let her go like she had said she wanted. Doing so had nearly killed him but he loved her enough to put her happiness above his own. It was not lost on him that they almost never were before they ever had a fighting chance to be together. He was a man haunted by those memories. The two of them quickly learned that they would never be over. They couldn't just stop. Their attraction was undeniable, inevitable. They settled back into their version of "normal." Their love would never be easy and simple but she never wanted that anyway and besides _normal_ was truly overrated. She wanted _painful, difficult, devastating, life-changing, extraordinary love_ and that is what they had. They finally decided that they were in this, whatever _this_ was or wasn't, together and they continued to find balance around the ring of fire.

This weekly arrangement allowed for them_ all_ to get what they wanted, at least for the time being. It was a mutually beneficial understanding. Besides, what the republic didn't know happened behind closed doors wouldn't hurt.

Cyrus would remain being the man behind the man; a political genius.

Mellie, well she had set her mind on far greater dreams than being the ornamental First Lady. She was strong, ambitious, and politically sharp. There was never a doubt in any of their minds that she had the potential to be the first female President of the United States.

Olivia, his stunningly brilliant _Livvie_, would be his lover, confidant, most trusted advisor. Simply stated; the love of his life, his ever beating heart.

For Fitz, the arrangement meant that he could breathe. And, breathing meant he was alive; functional. He would carry out his term as a smart, effective, idealistic President.

His left hand was poised to knock again when the door opened. She stood with her shoulder leaning against the frame, arms crossed across her chest and gave him a warm smile. One look from her was all it took to set a fire down in his soul. A slow burn that he couldn't contain, couldn't control and he wanted more. He tried to form any semblance of a coherent thought, but he was in a very one track frame of mind and could only choke out, "Hi." She was his _worst distraction. _

_Hi. _How was it possible for one word to evoke so many different emotions? Two simple letters and one syllable, but to them it was everything

"Hi," she whispered in return. Despite her irrational fears, vulnerabilities, and tendencies that erred on the side of neurotic and had an affinity for betraying her she was in love with this man. That much she knew. He may be the man of the people, but tonight he was her man and hers alone.

He took a few tentative steps forward and crossed the threshold into her home, the proverbial point of no return. He turned on his heels to address his agents, "Goodnight, Gentlemen."_ A good night indeed. "_I'm going to retire for the evening." The men nodded curtly with understanding and took their places on either side of the door. He made his way further into the apartment, turned to face her and breathed in her essence. What little restraint they had left from their week separation was quickly overshadowed by their desperate, primal instincts and need for love.

Sleep would allude them tonight. Tonight he would be _handling _her. Tonight he would be playing with fire and it would be worth it. It would always be worth it. There was no price. They were free to give and free to take. Tonight they could just be _them_. Tomorrow and the week ahead would always be there for them to rise from the ashes.


End file.
